The First Lady Read online

  Contents

  About the Book

  About the Authors

  Also by James Patterson

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Read More

  Copyright

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  A President’s affair to remember soon becomes a nightmare he wishes he could forget in James Patterson’s gripping new stand-alone thriller.

  As he steps out of his hotel in Atlanta with the love of his life, the last thing President Tucker expects is to be greeted by the flashing cameras of the media. Or for his affair to be revealed to the world.

  The President must act to stop the scandal from spiralling out of control, just weeks before the vote for a second term. But not before he figures out how to keep the First Lady on his side.

  Grace Tucker, however, has other plans.

  Betrayed and deeply hurt, she heads for a safe haven outside the capital. But when her security detail loses all trace of her, all hell breaks loose.

  The First Lady is missing. Did she run away? Or is she in more danger than they could have imagined …

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  JAMES PATTERSON is one of the best-known and biggest-selling writers of all time. His books have sold in excess of 375 million copies worldwide. He is the author of some of the most popular series of the past two decades – the Alex Cross, Women’s Murder Club, Detective Michael Bennett and Private novels – and he has written many other number one bestsellers including romance novels and stand-alone thrillers.

  James is passionate about encouraging children to read. Inspired by his own son who was a reluctant reader, he also writes a range of books for young readers including the Middle School, I Funny, Treasure Hunters, Dog Diaries, and Max Einstein series. James has donated millions in grants to independent bookshops and has been the most borrowed author of adult fiction in UK libraries for the past eleven years in a row. He lives in Florida with his wife and son.

  BRENDAN DUBOIS is the award-winning author of twenty-one novels and more than 160 short stories, garnering him three Shamus Awards from the Private Eye Writers of America. He is also a Jeopardy! game show champion.

  Also by James Patterson

  STAND-ALONE THRILLERS

  The Thomas Berryman Number • Hide and Seek • Black Market • The Midnight Club • Sail (with Howard Roughan) • Swimsuit (with Maxine Paetro) • Don’t Blink (with Howard Roughan) • Postcard Killers (with Liza Marklund) • Toys (with Neil McMahon) • Now You See Her (with Michael Ledwidge) • Kill Me If You Can (with Marshall Karp) • Guilty Wives (with David Ellis) • Zoo (with Michael Ledwidge) • Second Honeymoon (with Howard Roughan) • Mistress (with David Ellis) • Invisible (with David Ellis) • Truth or Die (with Howard Roughan) • Murder House (with David Ellis) • Woman of God (with Maxine Paetro) • Humans, Bow Down (with Emily Raymond) • The Black Book (with David Ellis) • Murder Games (with Howard Roughan) • The Store (with Richard DiLallo) • Texas Ranger (with Andrew Bourelle) • The President is Missing (with Bill Clinton) • Revenge (with Andrew Holmes) • Juror No. 3 (with Nancy Allen)

  ALEX CROSS NOVELS

  Along Came a Spider • Kiss the Girls • Jack and Jill • Cat and Mouse • Pop Goes the Weasel • Roses are Red • Violets are Blue • Four Blind Mice • The Big Bad Wolf • London Bridges • Mary, Mary • Cross • Double Cross • Cross Country • Alex Cross’s Trial (with Richard DiLallo) • I, Alex Cross • Cross Fire • Kill Alex Cross • Merry Christmas, Alex Cross • Alex Cross, Run • Cross My Heart • Hope to Die • Cross Justice • Cross the Line • The People vs. Alex Cross • Target: Alex Cross

  THE WOMEN’S MURDER CLUB SERIES

  1st to Die • 2nd Chance (with Andrew Gross) • 3rd Degree (with Andrew Gross) • 4th of July (with Maxine Paetro) • The 5th Horseman (with Maxine Paetro) • The 6th Target (with Maxine Paetro) • 7th Heaven (with Maxine Paetro) • 8th Confession (with Maxine Paetro) • 9th Judgement (with Maxine Paetro) • 10th Anniversary (with Maxine Paetro) • 11th Hour (with Maxine Paetro) • 12th of Never (with Maxine Paetro) • Unlucky 13 (with Maxine Paetro) • 14th Deadly Sin (with Maxine Paetro) • 15th Affair (with Maxine Paetro) • 16th Seduction (with Maxine Paetro) • 17th Suspect (with Maxine Paetro)

  DETECTIVE MICHAEL BENNETT SERIES

  Step on a Crack (with Michael Ledwidge) • Run for Your Life (with Michael Ledwidge) • Worst Case (with Michael Ledwidge) • Tick Tock (with Michael Ledwidge) • I, Michael Bennett (with Michael Ledwidge) • Gone (with Michael Ledwidge) • Burn (with Michael Ledwidge) • Alert (with Michael Ledwidge) • Bullseye (with Michael Ledwidge) • Haunted (with James O. Born) • Ambush (with James O. Born)

  PRIVATE NOVELS

  Private (with Maxine Paetro) • Private London (with Mark Pearson) • Private Games (with Mark Sullivan) • Private: No. 1 Suspect (with Maxine Paetro) • Private Berlin (with Mark Sullivan) • Private Down Under (with Michael White) • Private L.A. (with Mark Sullivan) • Private India (with Ashwin Sanghi) • Private Vegas (with Maxine Paetro) • Private Sydney (with Kathryn Fox) • Private Paris (with Mark Sullivan) • The Games (with Mark Sullivan) • Private Delhi (with Ashwin Sanghi) • Private Princess (with Rees Jones)

  NYPD RED SERIES

  NYPD Red (with Marshall Karp) • NYPD Red 2 (with Marshall Karp) • NYPD Red 3 (with Marshall Karp) • NYPD Red 4 (with Marshall K
arp) • NYPD Red 5 (with Marshall Karp)

  DETECTIVE HARRIET BLUE SERIES

  Never Never (with Candice Fox) • Fifty Fifty (with Candice Fox) • Liar Liar (with Candice Fox)

  NON-FICTION

  Torn Apart (with Hal and Cory Friedman) • The Murder of King Tut (with Martin Dugard) • All-American Murder (with Alex Abramovich and Mike Harvkey)

  MURDER IS FOREVER TRUE CRIME

  Murder, Interrupted (with Alex Abramovich and Christopher Charles) • Home Sweet Murder (with Andrew Bourelle and Scott Slaven) • Murder Beyond the Grave (with Andrew Bourelle and Christopher Charles)

  COLLECTIONS

  Triple Threat (with Max DiLallo and Andrew Bourelle) • Kill or Be Killed (with Maxine Paetro, Rees Jones, Shan Serafin and Emily Raymond) • The Moores are Missing (with Loren D. Estleman, Sam Hawken and Ed Chatterton) • The Family Lawyer (with Robert Rotstein, Christopher Charles and Rachel Howzell Hall) • Murder in Paradise (with Doug Allyn, Connor Hyde and Duane Swierczynski)

  For more information about James Patterson’s novels, visit www.jamespatterson.co.uk

  CHAPTER 1

  TWENTY-ONE MINUTES BEFORE the ambush, Harrison Tucker—former state senator, former Ohio governor, President of the United States, leader of the free world, and a month away from being reelected in a landslide to a second term—is lying on his stomach on a king-size bed in an Atlanta hotel room, feet toward the headboard, chin resting on a pillow, watching a retrospective documentary on the TV series House of Cards with the love of his life.

  A breakfast cart with the remains of two meals has been pushed to one side of the small but adequate room, and he sighs with pleasure as his companion, Tammy Doyle, straddling his back, gives him a thorough and deep post-coital back rub.

  “Look,” he says, watching the fictional president slither his way across the screen, “writers have to fictionalize politics and deal-making, like on The West Wing or Madam Secretary, but there’s no way Frank Underwood could be elected president in real life. You know why?”

  Tammy lowers her head, purrs in his ear. Prior to this they were both clothed, while he was giving a fund-raising speech and she was watching from a distant table that had cost her lobbying firm ten thousand dollars, but now they were both nude, the room filled with the scent of perspiration, coffee, and sex.

  “Is it because he wears a toupee?” she whispers. “Or because what’s-his-name was fired in disgrace?”

  “Hell, no,” Harrison replies. “It’s because he strangled that dog in the first episode. Remember? Most voters own cats or dogs. They have a sixth sense when it comes to someone who doesn’t like animals. They would have felt that from Frank. No one would vote for him. Trust me.”

  She kisses his right ear. “Have I ever not trusted you?”

  “If you didn’t you’ve kept it quiet … which is a nice change of pace.”

  Tammy laughs—a sound that still thrills him—and she really digs her warm fingers into his back and says, “Your state campaign director here in Georgia, Congressman Vickers.”

  He closes his eyes. Only his Tammy talks politics after love-making. “I’d rather not think about him right now,” Harrison says.

  “You should,” Tammy says in her soft, low voice. “The setup for the rally was a disaster. A jumble of people couldn’t get in the door because they didn’t have the right tickets. That means the wheels are coming off the field operation here.”

  “I thought the speech went well.”

  Tammy leans forward again, rubs her nose against his thick hair, like a loving cat, rubbing up for attention. “Harry, the speech went well because the people love you. After years of conflict and shouting, you’ve calmed things down, you’ve gotten the country moving again, and because your opponent, the honorable governor from California, is a fruitcake. But there should have been more people there, and the ticket fiasco pissed off some of your supporters for no good reason. It all goes back to Congressman Vickers. Sack him.”

  Harrison shifts a bit from her weight. “Tammy … the election’s four weeks away. Wouldn’t that be seen as a sign of weakness? Besides, the latest polls in Georgia have us up by six percent.”

  “Five point six,” she replies. “And no, it won’t be seen as a sign of weakness. It’ll show that once again, you have the balls to make the tough decisions when you need to do the right thing. Vickers is a drag on the campaign. Kick his butt to the curb— it’ll energize your supporters and volunteers.”

  “Good point,” he admits. “I’ll think about it.”

  Tammy laughs again and reaches down to his shoulders, rolls him over onto his back, and her full curvy body is now on top of him. He wraps his strong arms around her and gives her a hug he wishes would last forever. Smiling and with her thick brown hair cascading down the side of her beautiful face, Tammy says, “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “I do love you, even if you’re a power-mad, patriarchy-supporting President of these evil United States.”

  He gives her a firm squeeze around her waist. “And I do love you, even if you’re a corrupt, money-hungry lobbyist that degrades the political process.”

  Another kiss, fully sweet and pleasurable, only disturbed by Harrison’s thought of what his wife, Grace Fuller Tucker, First Lady of the United States, might be doing at this very moment in the District of Columbia, hundreds of miles away.

  Showered and dressed once more in the gray Brooks Brothers suit that Tammy Doyle had stripped off of him a few hours earlier, Harrison Tucker leaves his hotel room exactly one minute ahead of schedule, with Tammy behind him. Outside the room, standing calmly on the Oriental-style carpeted floor, Jackson Thiel, the lead agent on his PPD—personal protective detail— nods. “Good morning, Mr. President.”

  “Good morning, Jackson,” he says.

  His Secret Service agent—a tall, bulky African-American with short hair and the traditional curly Motorola radio wire running out of his ear—also says, “Morning, ma’am,” and the acknowledgment of Tammy pleases Harrison. He knows he has put the Secret Service in an awkward position with his relationship— he loves this woman and refuses to call it an affair. But he has spent his last four years building trust with his agents, listening to their security recommendations, remembering their birthdays, and ensuring they are treated well. In return, they have treated him with respect, affection, and … understanding.

  Harrison falls in line behind the business-suited Jackson as he heads to the near bank of elevators. Jackson brings up his coat sleeve and murmurs into the microphone, “CANAL is on the move,” CANAL being the President’s Secret Service code name.

  As they get to the elevator, the door slides open, revealing another Secret Service agent and a quiet military man dressed in civilian clothes, holding two very thick and bulky briefcases. The only time in his presidency Harrison ever felt unready was the day he was briefed on the horrible power and responsibility belonging to him in that briefcase, carrying the codes and communications devices to launch nuclear weapons.

  Harrison goes in, followed by Jackson, and then Tammy. She smiles at all of them and lingers for a moment next to Harrison, and he knows it sounds like he’s reverted back to high school, but that bright smile just lifts him off his feet. Even the man holding the keys to nuclear Armageddon doesn’t seem as frightening.

  It’s crowded in the small elevator, and Tammy is standing right next to him. He lowers his right hand, slips it into her left hand, gives it a squeeze. He knows deep inside he’s doing wrong, that he shouldn’t be having this relationship with Tammy, but she makes him happy. That’s all. Gives him love and affection and makes him happy, and for all the late nights, the compromises, the hard decisions, and the bone-weary responsibilities of being what the Secret Service calls “the Man” … well, doesn’t he deserve some happiness?

  The elevator comes to a halt, and in seconds there’s a procession moving quickly through an underground tunnel. Atlanta is honeycombed with tunnels and steam pip
elines and old passageways, and this one leads to the sub-basement of the hotel where he was supposedly spending the night alone.

  Another elevator, another agent already pre-positioned. Into the elevator, and Tammy leans in and whispers, “All right. When we get out I’ll swing around out front, catch a cab. When will I see you again?”

  He turns, kisses her ear through her thick hair, whispers back, “How about New Hampshire? In three days I’m speaking at Hart’s Location, one of the places where they cast the first votes in the nation.”

  Tammy says, “Only for you. I hate that state. They think they’re God’s chosen in picking the next president.”

  He moves his lips away from her. “They picked me, didn’t they?”

  Tammy laughs. “Even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

  The elevator door opens up, other Secret Service agents are waiting for him, and he follows their lead as they go through a storage area with plastic shrink-wrapped goods on wooden pallets, past rolled-up metal doors, a loading dock next to a wide alleyway. It’s barely dawn, and Atlanta’s morning air feels refreshing and his arm is around Tammy’s shoulders.

  When he turns to say good-bye to Tammy is when it happens.

  The first thing he notices are the bright flashes of light, and he half-expects to hear gunshots follow, and there are people now, coming out of a doorway, coming at him, more flashes of light and it’s—

  Camera flashes.

  Spotlights on television cameras.

  About a dozen of them, moving toward him, some charging, baying beast demanding to be fed, demanding to be answered, shouting at him, pushing ahead—

  “Mr. President!”

  “Mr. President!”

  “Mr. President!”

  CHAPTER 2

  GRACE FULLER TUCKER, First Lady of the United States, takes her time walking through the offices of the East Wing, saying good morning and hello to her young staff members. Her Secret Service detail of two women and one man spread out behind her as she walks forward past her young charges, who are referred to by the news media as “the First Lady’s children.” She always smiles at the joke but never lets on that the little phrase digs at her, a constant reminder she and Harrison will always be childless.